


Afternoon Dissection

by wecouldbethestars



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, America is a Nerd (Hetalia), Artist Francis, At least that was my goal but they're all probably closeted high school kids so, Biology, Can you tell Ive never had to tag writing before please help, Dissection, Francis has a really thick accent, Frukus - Freeform, Gen, M/M, Multi, Not super graphic but like slightly, Open to Interpretation, Punk England (Hetalia), Science Class, The relations I mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 03:23:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18864730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wecouldbethestars/pseuds/wecouldbethestars
Summary: Arthur Kirkland, punk extraordinaire, forgets that it's dissection day in his biology class until his friend, Alfred Jones, reminds him.Alfred has been excited to dissect with his best friends, Arthur and Francis, since the beginning of the year.Francis, on the other hand, isn't so excited, and just doesn't want his outfit to get ruined.Also features: Arthur trying to keep his shit together while trying to do a group project.





	Afternoon Dissection

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I've never posted any writing before and I know it's kind of dumb to put notes at the beginning of a story.  
> I just wanted to say that a lot of the relationship dynamics are really up for interpretation in this fic. I didn't really decide what sexualities the guys had, if they knew, or if others knew. There's only really one person set in stone, and the rest is for whatever vibes the fic gives you.  
> Also, Francis has a really thick accent- please read his dialogue like that. Thanks, enjoy!

Arthur trudged along the hallway, narrowly avoiding a girl on the phone that was heading on a collision path straight for him. He glanced up, scanning the line of numbers above each locker. 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004- He came to a stop at locker #2005, the last one in the block. The black locker was taller than him, but he still had to awkwardly bend down to input his combo. When the locker opened, he shoved his maths binder onto one of the shelves, and pulled out his biology notebook in turn. Just as Arthur was locking his locker back up, a face appeared in the right of his perpetual vision.  
“Hey, Artie!” A joyous voice followed the face, and Arthur turned to give the boy an obligatory scowl.  
“For the love of fucking God, Alfred, could you please stop calling me that?” Arthur complained. In reality, he knew the other would never drop the nickname. But he had a reputation to uphold, after all. It’s not like the nickname didn’t really bother him or anything, not at all. Arthur’s bracelets jingled against the locker as he turned and began to walk down the hallway.  
“Nope, not ever. Anyway, are you excited for bio today?” Alfred asked excitedly. He’d been looking forward to this part of the biology curriculum since their teacher, Mr. Oxenstierna, had told his classes they’d be doing it at the beginning of the year. Arthur rolled his eyes; as much as he loved his friend, Alfred honestly hadn’t shut up about this. Before he could respond, Alfred stopped, a confused look on his face, “Wait, I thought today was the sixth?” Arthur followed to where he was looking; a flier advertising today’s game was hung on the library door. Arthur frowned slightly.  
“Today is the sixth, Alfred. That’s not a nine.” Sometimes, Arthur felt bad for Alfred. He struggled a lot when reading things, and often needed Arthur to tutor him in English or History. But Arthur took some credit; Alfred’s dyslexia had been a lot worse when they were younger than it was now. Alfred often prefered phone calls to texting, making it more inconvenient to communicate sometimes, but Arthur didn’t mind the occasional phone call, or reading questions and directions out loud. Alfred huffed good-naturedly at Arthur’s correction, and they dropped the conversation.  
The pair chatted about a variety of things as they made their way towards their science classroom. Alfred brought up the new game that just came out, and Arthur brought up the latest band he’d started listening to. Shortly after, they were at Mr. Ox’s classroom, number 228. Arthur walked in first, scanned in, and crossed across the room to his lab table. Each table sat two people; Arthur sat with their friend, Francis, and Alfred sat in front of them with a Japanese exchange student named Kiku.  
Arthur pulled out his chair and sat to the right of Francis, who was already at the table writing in his notebook.  
“‘Ello, Francis,” Arthur greeted as he pulled out his notebook. Today’s Do Now was asking about the father of genetics, or something. Arthur didn’t bother writing it down.  
“‘Ello, Arthur,” Francis greeted back. His whole family was from France, and had moved to the States when Francis was about 10. He still spoke in a thick accent as a result- thankfully, all the American girls thought it was hot. Arthur agreed. Before either of the boys could start a conversation in lieu of answering their Do Nows, Mr. Ox stood up. He began to write instructions on the board as his aid walked to the front of the classroom.  
“Arthur, do you not find it odd that no one knows his name?” Francis whispered, his head tilted slightly towards Arthur and slightly towards the short, blond man in the front of the room. I shrugged in response.  
“I’ve heard Ox call him Tino before. But I don’t know why he won’t give us his name. Like,” Here, Arthur pitched his voice up to sound like the man, “Just call me Aid!” He said, before talking normally again, “ Like, no, dude, I’m not calling you ‘aid’, that’s fucking gay. And not the good gay, like you, Francis. The bad gay, like,” Arthur’s voice went up again, “‘Wow, that’s so gay!’” Francis began snickering here, and Alfred turned back to look at the two.  
“Dudes, that’s like, offensive to queer people.” He lectured with a totally straight face. Then, at the same time, all three of them broke out laughing. The so-called Tino glared in their direction.  
“Francis, Arthur, Alfred. Enough. Anyway, that’s about it for instructions. Mr. Oxenstierna has written the directions on the board unless anyone didn’t catch them,” He said, with a pointed look towards the back of the class, “You all may get your safety equipment now.” Alfred looked down in embarrassment as Francis and Arthur continued giggling. Kiku pushed out his chair and stood to go get his things, and the other three followed suit.  
Arthur headed to the other side of the room and grabbed two pairs of goggles for him and Alfred. Francis, the snob, brought his own goggles. In his own words, “Oh, I absolutely can not wear these, Mr. Ox! They’re horrendous!” Predictably, he went out and bought his own goggles to wear to lab the next day. Bright purple, bedazzled goggles. Arthur stuck a pair of green goggles over the mop on top of his head that he called hair as he headed back to the table. He dropped off Alfred’s blue goggles and hooked the apron that was left him over his neck, “Oi, Francis,” He called, “Tie this for me, please?” Francis was walking towards their table with a fistful of gloves.  
“Of course, mon lapin,” Francis said as he tied Arthur’s apron, “And no, before you say something, I will not stop speaking French to you.” To this, Arthur let out an aggressive huff-sigh mix. Francis finished off the apron with a nice bow, and Arthur tied his in return. When Francis went off to get the papers their group would need, Arthur grabbed Alfred’s chair and moved it to the left end of the lab table.  
Alfred came back with their dissection tray. The bottom was padded with a light blue rubber piece and on top were an assortment of dissection tools. Francis returned with a mat and the booklet and took his seat, as did Arthur.  
“Alright guys, who's ready to get dissecting?” Alfred exclaimed as he snapped his gloves on. Francis turned to Arthur and made an exaggerated gagging motion. Arthur took the paper with directions off the table and began to read it. The group hadn’t missed much when Tino had been talking. Mr. Ox’s summary was basically, “Get your safety equipment, the specimen, and the instructions”.  
“Okay, Alfred. Take the tray and go get the thing from Ox. He’s in the back of the room washing them,” Arthur told Alfred as he read the instructions. When Alfred came back with the tray, Francis almost gagged on the spot.  
“What the fuck?” Francis asked, his accent so thick the ‘the’ actually sounded like an American ‘z’ sound. In the tray was a pig. He was starting to regret not listening when Tino and Mr. Ox were giving instructions.  
“It’s a fetal pig,” Alfred told them, “It died in the womb before it’s mama could give birth. They’ve all been dead for around a year, so don’t worry,” Francis scrunched up his nose, and Arthur looked back down at the instructions. He blew a strand of green hair out of his face; he really needed to get a haircut.  
“Okay, uh, Francis- look through the booklet and answer the questions on the sheet. Alfred, we need to inspect the external anatomy or some shit before you start slicing the thing open so please, put the scalpel down. Thank you. Would you turn the pig over Alfred? Okay. So, does it have a cock? Yeah? Francis, make sure to write that down. So those little nubs on its underside have a name but I don’t feel like looking for them. It’s where the nipples would be on a female. Says here they’d connect to mammary glands, which on a human are those things that fuel people’s lactation kinks. Okay. Uh, Fran, write down the sensory organs on its head. Like ears and eyes and tongue and that shit. Good? Alrighty. Grab that knife Al. You need to cut three centimeters into its jaw. That’s the one thing I actually like about science classes. The good ol’ metric system.”  
“Wait,” Francis interrupted, “I know you are having a great time ranting and all, but we need to name the pig.” This warranted a gasp from Alfred.  
“I say we name it Peppa. Wait, Peppo. Peppo the fetal pig.” The way Alfred was grinning, combined with the weird way his hair was pushed back with the goggles, and the way his the afternoon light of eight period was- Arthur needed to focus.  
“I suggest we name it Waddles. Like the pig from Gr-” Francis couldn’t even finish his suggestion before Alfred and Arthur were jumping at the suggestion. Even Kiku turned around and gave them an approving nod, “Waddles it is, then,” Francis confirmed with a smile. Arthur privately wondered why everyone was smiling today, and why they all looked so nice. Francis was wearing a normal Francis Outfit, a nice purple button down and some kind of expensive dark blue jeans. Nothing fancier than normal. Alfred was wearing a flannel with some kind of Marvel t-shirt underneath and a lighter, and much less expensive, pair of jeans. Everyone looked normal; Arthur decided he was just going crazy, and he’d just focus on the lab more.  
“Anyway, focus, please. I’m already failing this class since I’ve made the executive decision to do jack shite, and now I’m kind of regretting it. Alfred, wait, actually, Francis. Could you pass me that mat please? Thank you. Look here, Al- the structure labeled number 6 is the epiglottis. You need to find that and tell us what color it is.”  
“Uhhh,” Alfred mumbled, “This one? Yeah. it’s this one. It’s pink, Fran.” Francis nodded to this. He’d been flipping through the booklet, looking for the answers to the worksheet they were supposed to be filling out. He scritched down the answer onto the paper, and then glanced over to the instructions paper.  
“Instead of dicking around, as much as I hate to say it, maybe we should cut the thing open. We only have two periods to do this.” Arthur nodded in agreement to this, and slid the mat over to Alfred. Arthur pointed out which incisions were which, and which ones came first. As Arthur explained each cut, Alfred went to grab the scalpel.  
“Wait, Alfred,” Arthur interrupted, “We need to tie Waddles around the tray first. The picture kinda makes it look like he’s being crucified, so I don’t want to skip the step.” As he talked, Arthur took a piece of string and handed the other to Alfred. Francis had previously been marveling at the multiple tones in the string, and frowned when Arthur took it from him. He began tying the string around one of the pig’s legs, encouraging Alfred to do the same. Arthur then lifted up the tray and pulled the string tightly under, before tying the string to the leg across. Finally, he cut off the excess.  
It took Alfred a bit longer than it look Arthur, but eventually the pig was strung up. Alfred then began to cut into the pig at the incision lines. When Francis looked up from his paper, his mouth fell open like that of a fish, “Mon Dieu! What did you two do!” Francis squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head, “That poor pig. You two are the most cruelest dissection group in the history of dissection groups!” He stuck his hands out dramatically towards Alfred and the pig, palms forward.  
“What are you going to do, Francis. Exorcise us?” Arthur rolled his eyes at how dramatic Francis was being. He didn’t find it endearing in the slightest. While Francis was lamenting the fate of the pig, Alfred had began to open it up. By the time Francis was done, the pig’s underside was pinned open.  
“Alright Alfred,” Arthur paused to glance down at the paper, “Count the number of liver lobes. That’s the blue stuff. Then remove them and find the stomach,” Arthur continued to relay instructs to Alfred, helping him when needed. He usually didn’t care about bio, but he wasn’t that much of a jackass to bring Francis and Alfred’s grades down just because he was a lazy arsehole. Besides, he kind of liked that Alfred relied on him for instructions. Only kind of though.  
The rest of the dissection continued in much of the same manner. Arthur sarcastically helped Alfred dissect the pig, while Francis complained that it was disgusting while he answered questions. The trio bickered over which part was which, which was usually settled by Francis pointing to the diagram on the mat. At one point, Alfred accidentally sliced open the stomach. Amniotic fluid drained out as a result, and Arthur had to take Francis to the bathroom. He didn’t throw up, though; only complained that his hair was getting sweaty. (“I can’t believe you two left me to keep working my myself!”) Arthur tried to argue that fetal pigs only had one kidney. That argument didn’t get very far, to say the least. (“I have readed in multiple anatomy packets that like, everything has two kidneys, Arthur! Pay more attention!”) Alfred also thought it would be fun to uncoil the whole small intestine, and then measure it. (“The ruler isn’t long enough, you twat. Put that back!”)  
The trio’s dissection ended when Arthur cut off Waddles’s undeveloped penis. Mr. Ox came over at the wrong time and noticed Arthur trying to cut open a testi so he could put the mini-penis in. Long story short, all three of them wound up in detention. Francis tried to talk Arthur and Alfred out of trouble, but he just wound up with detention as well.  
But Arthur decided to look on the bright side. He was stuck in a room with horrible supervision for two hours after school… with the two guys who he had realized were kind of hot. Just kind of, though. Arthur didn’t think the two of them were really, really, really hot or anything. Not in the slightest.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked that short thing that took, like, way too long to write. It'd be really cool if you left a review; I'd appreciate it a lot. Thanks!  
> Also I didn't even proof read because I'm really tired so please point out any typos or sentences that sound weird, or weird transitions or grammar mistakes (that aren't Francis) or anything wrong. Thanks again :D


End file.
